It was a week before he returned properly, but every morning of that week a small rick of fire wood was left outside the smithy; whether the old man and his wife needed it for the day or instead stored it, Jigano didn't care. His main collection spot near the tavern's pile grew day by day as those who listened to his songs and stories left a few logs, and with winter's chill the Rathskeller was often full. He also called in some very small favors from those he had helped to rescue from the sentient book, and of course, he ventured to the labyrinth in search of something that he hoped would prove as welcome as the wood.
Creating a salve from it had taken a bit of experimenting, but with the help of the medics Jigano had a good supply of the medicine that he hoped would help with the old man's arthritis. Walking beside a shaggy pony, he whistled in the midmorning sunshine. His companion was a quiet sort, but since it was his cart and pony Jigano was borrowing, the bard could hardly mind the company. They came to a halt outside the smithy and the lorekeeper slipped in the door much as he had that first time, bright blue eyes looking around for a familiar, wizened face.
"Hello?" he called out cheerfully. "Mastersmith, are you in?"
Creating a salve from it had taken a bit of experimenting, but with the help of the medics Jigano had a good supply of the medicine that he hoped would help with the old man's arthritis. Walking beside a shaggy pony, he whistled in the midmorning sunshine. His companion was a quiet sort, but since it was his cart and pony Jigano was borrowing, the bard could hardly mind the company. They came to a halt outside the smithy and the lorekeeper slipped in the door much as he had that first time, bright blue eyes looking around for a familiar, wizened face.
"Hello?" he called out cheerfully. "Mastersmith, are you in?"
